Chapter 14
Earlier…
Anna had been running for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. She knew Voltar was behind her, but he was big, and his body size slowed him down. Her legs were burning, but she couldn’t stop. She had to put as much distance as possible between Voltar and Tavis.
She leaned against a tree and caught her breath. At this rate, she’d never survive. It was embarrassing, but she was injured. She’d considered circling around to her car, but her Honda rental would never outrun Voltar’s badass motorcycle. She started running again, and after a few yards, she burst out of the trees.
An old camper sat forlornly in an overgrown camping space. The campground behind Bree’s house had been here for a long time. According to Bree, campers had occasionally gotten lost and showed up at Bree’s grandmother’s house. Now they knew the lost campers were actually warriors and Seekers sent to look for the missing key to Faelan’s time vault. There weren’t many campers here now. Anna stretched out a burning thigh. She needed to rest. She peered in the windows of a camper. This one wasn’t too rusty. After picking the lock, she went inside. If Voltar caught her, she’d blast him with her talisman and then die. At least he would be weakened. Whoever was assigned could finish him off. Tavis would be safe.
He was all she’d thought about since she’d met him. His face, his bruised but magnificent body, his loneliness. It’s like he’d wiggled into her brain until there was nothing but Tavis in there. She sat down on an outdated flower-print sofa and closed her eyes. Just a minute. She didn’t know how far Voltar was behind her, or if she’d even been successful. She hadn’t heard him for a while.
She was sitting there in a ratty old camper when Michael the Archangel appeared. Usually, he came in dreams. This time she was awake. If being dead on her feet was awake. Power and energy radiated off the angel, so strong she had to shield her eyes. He was so glorious she would have bowed before him if she could have moved. As it was, she was frozen in awe.
“Voltar must be stopped. It is time. Tavis needs you.” And just like that, Michael left, and Anna was sitting on the dingy couch with her mouth hanging open.
“Wait,” she yelled, then closed her mouth. She had questions, lots of them, but no one made demands of Michael—except one person, who was not really a person but more of an entity. She continued sitting there as the shock faded. As far as she could tell, Michael had just assigned her to destroy Voltar. She’d killed or suspended hundreds of demons. It was her job, her life. One she’d planned on doing until the day she died. But an ancient demon? Voltar. Where was he? What if he’d doubled back to the graveyard?
She jumped up and went to the door. She was still weak, but if Voltar had been assigned to her, her talisman might destroy him. She would do everything in her power to make sure he didn’t find Tavis. When she reached the graveyard, she felt something behind her. Turning, she saw a black mist materialize into a man.
“What have you done?” The voice was cold, deadly, and oddly beautiful. Almost as beautiful as his face. Tristol.
With a quick lunge, Anna leapt over the graveyard gate to the safety of holy ground. She gave Tristol a forced look of defiance and felt the pull of something so strong she had to look away. Then she realized what she had done—led him closer to Tavis. If Tristol found Tavis, he would kill him or take him back to the fortress and torture him again. Tavis wouldn’t survive that. First Voltar and now Tristol. What did they want with him?
If she used her talisman on an unassigned ancient demon she would die. And Tristol was the most powerful demon in this dimension. That wouldn’t save Tavis. She needed to lead Tristol away from here before he got any closer.
“Anna. Do you think a fence and some rotted bones can stop me?” His eyes flashed, and he put a hand on the gate. Moving so fast she could barely see him, he appeared in front of her, his elegantly booted feet firmly on holy ground, his face so beautiful she felt as if she were melting.
He smiled, but there was anger seething underneath. Anna backed away. Tristol moved closer. His pale hand reached out and caressed her talisman. How? Demons couldn’t step on holy ground. They couldn’t touch a warrior’s talisman without being burned. Yet here he was doing just that. “What are you?”
He smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. Even so, she felt as if she were melting again. “Not what you think. What have you done with my fortress?”
“Your fortress?”
“My fortress. It’s gone.”
“I didn’t take it.” What was she saying? No one could take a fortress. “It’s cloaked. Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place.”
He tugged her talisman, pulling her closer until only a few inches separated them. “I’m not looking in the wrong place.”
“I swear. I didn’t take it.” This can’t be happening. “How can someone move a fortress? Fortresses don’t move.”
“This one does.”
“That’s imposs—” Before she’d finished the word, Tristol grabbed her, and she was moving through the woods at warp speed. She screamed and held on to the only thing she could. Tristol. After what seemed like seconds, they came to a sudden stop. She and Tristol were close as lovers, his arms around her waist and hers locked around him like chains. They were in the woods. She recognized the place where the fortress had been.
Tristol narrowed his eyes. “You see. No fortress.”
“Oh my God. How did you do that?”
“Please stop saying that.” Tristol turned to Anna, a thoughtful look on his face. “Though He would have that kind of power.”
“You think God stole your fortress?” This must be a dream, and she was still in the dungeon in some drug-induced state.
“Unless you did. Or Faelan.”
“I haven’t seen Faelan for days, but I can assure you I didn’t do it. Neither did Tavis. He could barely move after you tortured him.”
Tristol went so still it seemed as if time stopped. “Tavis?”
“Tavis, the prisoner you were torturing.”
Tristol’s eyes started to redden. Anna tried to step back, but Tristol grabbed her talisman again. Why wasn’t it burning him?
“You mean Faelan?”
Anna swallowed, remembering what the blond vampire had said about not telling Tristol the truth for fear of his anger. She probably shouldn’t have mentioned it, but if Tristol knew he had Tavis and not Faelan, it might protect Tavis for now. Anna was probably dead anyway. Tristol was the most powerful demon on earth. A demon who wasn’t affected by her talisman. “Your vampire didn’t tell you? The blond one?”
Tristol’s eyes were fiery red now, making him terrifying and yet beautiful. “Faelan’s brother is dead. He’s been dead for generations.”
Anna was afraid to speak or move. She’d already said too much by giving Tavis’s name.
Tristol’s eyes returned to normal, and he continued to study her until she felt as if all her insides had mushed together. “I had Tavis, not Faelan. And Jacquard knew.”
A sound came from Tristol, a simmering, tinkling, seething sound, like a million pieces of glass breaking as hot metal poured over them.
“Where is Tavis, then?” Tristol’s body seemed to be moving, as if he wasn’t solid.
“I don’t know.”
“I can make you tell me.”
And she knew he could. “Maybe Voltar has him,” she said, trying to deflect. “He said he’d been waiting for him.”
“You saw Voltar? Where?”
“In your fortress. He was the one who killed all the vampires.”
Tristol’s eyes started to redden again. “My vampires are dead.”
Anna did back up then. Anger and heat rose from Tristol like an oven. He made a hissing sound, and she closed her eyes, waiting to die.
“Where is he?”
Anna cracked one eye, surprised she was still alive. “Tavis?”
“No. Where is Voltar?”
“He was chasing me. I think I lost him. I don’t know where he is. If I did, I would kill him.”
“That’s intriguing. I had other plans for you, but like you, I want Voltar removed. I have an idea.”
* * *
“How doI know you’re telling the truth?” Tavis asked.
Lance flipped something through the air. Tavis’s hand snaked out to catch it, his heart thudding even before he felt the metal in his hand. Anna’s hairpin.
“You really know where she is?”
“I do, but I’m not telling until you’ve helped me. It’s my insurance policy.”
“And the demon who killed Liam?”
“I’ll tell you that after Voltar is dead. What do you say? Can we strike a bargain?”
What Tavis would like to strike was Lance’s skull. “How do I know this isn’t a trap laid by Voltar? Or Tristol?” And his damned breeding plan.
“That’s a risk you’ll have to take.”
“You’re an arrogant little bastard.”
“An arrogant little bastard who knows where to find what you’re looking for. You’ll have to come alone.”
A trap, likely, but what choice did he have? He had to find Anna, and he would give his arm to know who killed Liam. “I have to do something first.” The least he could do was leave a message so Faelan would know Tavis had left of his own accord.
“I’ll be waiting on the other side of the woods,” Lance said, pointing in the direction where Tavis and Ian had found Faelan’s time vault buried. “I have a car there. But hurry. Voltar is getting restless. I’m afraid he’ll kill her soon.”
Tavis hurried across the yard into the house. Ronan was in the kitchen standing in front of a large white box filled with food. He removed a blue cylinder and pulled the top. It hissed.
“Pepsi?” he asked, taking a large drink.
Tavis shook his head. “Have you seen Faelan?”
Ronan snorted. “He and Bree are in the bedroom. Lucky bastard.”
Was he hankering after Faelan’s wife? She was a bonny lass. More than bonny. There was something compelling about her.
“Have you a piece of paper and a quill?”
Ronan frowned. “There’s a notepad there on the counter.” He nodded toward a small square. “There’s a pen beside it.”
Tavis picked it up and saw sheets of paper that looked like a tiny blank book. An odd quill lay beside it.
“Looks like you’re leaving Faelan a note,” Ronan said. “You going somewhere?”
“Just writing something down.” He had to go alone, or Lance wouldn’t take Tavis to Anna. “I think I’ll rest.”
“Right.”
Tavis carried the paper down the hall to Faelan’s room. He heard quiet whispers inside and a woman’s laugh. He slipped the note under the door. As soon as he found Anna, he would contact Faelan. How, he didn’t know. This wasn’t the same place he’d left. He went quietly through the house and outside.
“Nice rest?”
“Bollocks.” Tavis turned and saw Ronan on the porch.
“You’re going to run out on your brother before he’s even welcomed you home?”
“There’s no time to wait. I have to go now.”
“What’s so urgent?”
Tavis gritted his teeth, his jaw still sore from the beatings. “Anna. The guard who kept us imprisoned is waiting in the woods. He’s going to lead me to her.”
“Why would he do that?” Ronan asked.
“Voltar intends to kill him soon, and he’d rather I killed Voltar first.”
“You can’t kill Voltar. Are you crazy?”
“He’s my demon. He was assigned to me.”
“Hell. Does Faelan know?”
“I told him.”
“Assigned or not, you’re not going alone,” Ronan said.
“The guard won’t cooperate if there’s anyone else. I have to risk it.”
“You’ve got the hots for her, haven’t you?”
Tavis didn’t understand Ronan’s words, but he understood the grin. “I owe her a debt.”
“Go with the guard. I’ll follow. I assume he’s got a car.”
“You can’t let him see you.”
“I won’t. I’ll hang back. Come on. We may need food and water. We don’t know where we’re headed.” They walked inside, and Ronan opened the large white box again and took out two clear bottles. They were made of the same strange material as bottles he’d seen in the house where Angus had taken him, and also in Faelan’s bathroom. Like glass, but softer.
“Plastic,” Ronan said, seeing Tavis’s quizzical look. “They didn’t have it in your time. Makes things a hell of a lot easier. Not helping the planet much, though. This is water.” He handed Tavis one of the bottles. “If this guard’s right about Anna, she may need food, water, and medicine.”
It made Tavis sick to think about Anna being injured after all she’d suffered in the dungeon.
Ronan picked up two strange-looking satchels and some things that Tavis assumed were medical supplies and put them inside. “Here, strap this on.” He demonstrated by hooking one of the satchels over both shoulders. “It’s like a big sporran for your back.”
Ronan waited inside the house while Tavis went ahead to meet Lance. A figure materialized from the trees. It wasn’t Lance. It was the quiet warrior with long hair. Shane. “Damnation. Is everyone following me?” Tavis asked.
“I wasn’t following you,” Shane said. “Duncan and I were patrolling. I heard something.”
Most likely he’d heard Lance. “I’ll check it out. You can go back.”
“I don’t think so,” Shane said.
Tavis wanted to punch a tree. “I have something to do, and I need to do it alone.”
Shane shook his head. “Faelan won’t be happy if I let you leave alone.”
“Hell. I’m not alone. Ronan’s already coming.”
“Then there’ll be three of us. Lead on.”
Actually, there were four. When they got to Lance’s car, Duncan was sitting on the hood, and Lance was shackled on the ground.